


Airport

by GingerGinny



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AmeCan, Caname - Freeform, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerGinny/pseuds/GingerGinny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England, France, and America go to pick up Canada from the airport- for some reason, it's taking longer than usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airport

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my drafts for a good year and a half now.

"Alright, so Canada's waiting on the third floor of the parking garage," America said, bouncing around in the backseat of England's car as he flipped his phone into his pocket. "If you guys park down on the floor, I can just hop up there and ride the elevator down with him in a jiffy."

America had sat himself down in the backseat so that he had his torso wedged in between the two front seats, arms wrapped around the headrests, his head poking out between England's and France's shoulders. An umbrella was resting on his lap and his slightly soggy backpack had slid under the passenger seat long ago, flopping off of the seat next to him.

"Are you sure? Perhaps Matthieu would prefer if we all went and got him." France replied, wiping some fog off of the passenger side window.

"Nah, it's cool, I can just run up there real quick. He says he's waiting on a bench right next to the elevator, it'll only take me about thirty seconds." America said, smiling at France.

Rain drizzled down on the windshield in a steady beat as England maneuvered in and around the outside curb of the airport parking garage, running up and down the concrete car slides. He was drumming his fingers against the wheel impatiently as he grunted in reply.

England's car didn't even come to a full stop before America hopped out, umbrella springing open as he sprinted to the elevator.

* * *

 

Thirty seconds had already passed and America still hadn't returned with Canada, leaving the Brit and French man alone to bicker by the side of the parking garage.

"Where the bloody hell are they?" England said, jerking them away from the curb and sailing the car off to the upwards ramp. "Can't America do anything right?"

"Maybe they got caught up?" France replied, resting back against the seat. "Maybe they drowned in your god awful weather."

They drove up the spiral ramp to the third floor, the car humming smoothly.

"Excuse me?" England stopped the car momentarily, leaning out the window to grab an entrance ticket to the third floor. "This is classic weather, a gentleman's weather."

"Gentlemen's weather? Angleterre, have you always been this full of crap?" France said, looking over at the British man as they entered the concrete lair.

* * *

 

"I wanted to talk sleeping arrangements with you a moment- where do you suppose Canada would like to sleep?" England asked as he drove through the first row. "I was just going to put America on the couch but perhaps you'd prefer it there inste-"

"Angleterre, Angleterre-" France said repeatedly, smacking England's arm as he refused to shut up. He gave up and grabbed England's arm, shaking it wildly. "ARTHUR!"

"What?!" England snapped, cutting himself off mid-sentence and hitting the brakes. He swiveled around in his seat to see France's jaw drop, nose squashed against the window.

"I don't think you will have to worry about the sleeping arrangements after all." France said, turning to England and laughing. "I think they've planned it out for us!"

"What the hell do you mean?" England exclaimed, turning off the ignition as he leaned forward, almost cheek-to-cheek with France. He stared out the window only to exclaim 'Oh my god!' seconds later.

Canada was sitting on one of the benches with his backpack in his lap, his roll-away luggage abandoned next to his feet with America standing over him, holding the umbrella up above their heads with one hand.

Canada's lips were firmly locked with America's, who had his free hand brushing a lock of Canada's hair behind his ear as he hunched over- a slow, delicate kiss as America lightly touched the other’s face.

"Oh my god!"

"Shut up, you're ruining ze moment!"

The backpack on Canada's lap was set aside as he wrapped his hands around the back of America's neck, pressing his mouth harder against America's and scooting to the edge of the bench. His backpack slowly slipped off and fell down on his luggage, rolling to the ground as neither of them payed attention, distracted by one another.

Canada seemed desperate for America as he pulled on the collar of the other's shirt, kicking his bag further away and deepening the kiss.

"My goodness, Matthieu!"

"Do they ever come up for air?!"

America slowly straightened his back, never breaking apart as Canada rose up with him, one of his arms snaking around America's side. The umbrella wavered in America's loose grip before falling to the ground, America burying his newly-freed hand into Canada's hair. He took few quick breaths as Canada pulled their waists against each other, patting soft kisses up and down America's neck.

"I don't think they need air where they're going!"

"Oh my god!"

America seemed to melt into Canada's hold, mumbling something the watching duo couldn't hear as Canada dipped him slightly, burying his face into America's neck. America's knees faltered as Canada replied, whispering into his ear before pulling him back into another kiss with more force than previously, America's face flushing with color. Clutching onto Canada's jacket for support at this point, America pushed back against the Canadian, his arms engulfing as much of Canada as possible while they grappled.

America was the mortar to Canada's chisel.

"Aren't there laws against this type of thing?!"

"I can only see three hands!"

One of Canada's hands was up the backside of America's shirt, the American falling against Canada and running his hands through the pale blond locks. They kissed like they were trying to suck the air out of each other's lungs, rustling back and forth in place, cloth rubbing against cloth. The car windows started fogging over as they watched Canada's lips move between America's mouth and his neck, America bending to Canada's movements like clay as he fought for friction.

"Oh my god! We are in public!"

"Who cares, Matthieu, I've taught you so well!"

Canada said something to America between kisses, something that made the American's face redden much more than before and smile softly. The back of his shirt rode up as Canada grabbed at his skin, trailing up and down America's spine and into the dip of his back, leaving fingernail prints in America's skin. America shuddered as Canada's fingertips brushed across his sides, stopping their kiss to momentarily bite his lip.

"My goodness! Have they always been so... physical?"

America's hands found themselves up against Canada's chest, pulling down his jacket zipper and wrapping around Canada's torso. Canada's hand moved from under America's shirt and to his hips, fingers edging their way in between America's bare skin and his blue jeans.

America whispered something to Canada as their foreheads pressed against each other briefly, Canada pulling on America's bottom lip with his teeth and landing sloppy kisses on America's neck. More and more of Canada's hand disappeared under the rim of America's jeans, America's face buried in the hood of the Canadian's jacket as Canada nipped at his neck.

"WOAH!" England yelled, hands flying to the wheel as Canada's hand vanished entirely down the front of America's pants.

"No! Don't you dare ruin their moment!" France yelled back, grabbing England's hands and holding the struggling British man's arms back. "I won't let you ruin their blossoming love!"

Canada had wrested America into another kiss, hungrily going after his lips.

"Their 'love' is breaching public decency laws!" England fought back, elbowing France in the ribs.

The two wrestled, France trying to drag England's hands away from the wheel as England scratched and pulled at him, even trying to kick the restricting french man as much as the tiny car would allow.

England jerked away one of his hands and slammed his palm against the horn, sounding the alarming noise all throughout the parking garage level, echoing and booming in the concrete walls.

He and France watched as America nearly strangled Canada in alarm, Canada looking over frantically, leaving America with shallow breathing and red cheeks. France rolled down the window as fast as he could and clapped, beaming as Canada made eye contact with him.

"Matthieu! Papa is so proud!" France yelled, Canada's face burning as all the blood in his body rushed to his face, whipping his hand out of America's pants. "You were doing fantastically!"

Canada dove for his backpack and luggage, pulling his hood up and as tightening the drawstrings as much as he could. America just stood there, shell-shocked and staring blankly down at the ground, wiping Canada's saliva off his neck with the collar of his shirt. He awkwardly pulled his pants up as Canada shakily handed the fallen umbrella to him, America moving slowly; like he had been paralyzed.

"America!" France called out, America's head turning slowly." I wouldn't have guessed you for a bottom!"

France's voice echoed.

America sprang into motion, ripping Canada's luggage away from him and sprinting behind the car, forcing the trunk door up.


End file.
